


Deeper

by sciencefictioness



Category: Venom (Comics), Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Messy Symbiote Blowjobs, Oh That's Not A Tag? AO3 Is Kinkshaming Me, Other, Soft filth, Teratophilia, Xenophilia, drool kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 19:16:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16270625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sciencefictioness/pseuds/sciencefictioness
Summary: “What happened to me being tired?”  Eddie asks, but his other knows he’s teasing.  He’s already hard, knees falling wide, all of him open and willing.  Can’t be anything else with his love like this, hungry and shameless and eager to please him— giving Eddie what he needs, even when he’s too worn out to ask for it.It’s more than he deserves.Black tendrils curl around his wrists, tighter and tighter, until it’s impossible to move them.  More twist into being around his hips, and his stomach, the symbiote taking form between his thighs.Stressed.  Been so busy.  Missed you, Eddie.Eddie flexes his wrists, and the tendrils around them spill obligingly into his palms.  He runs his fingers over the soft, shifting black there, letting it cling to him, relaxing as it spreads over his hands.“I’m right here, love,” Eddie says, watching as the symbiote’s tongue lolls out of its mouth and curls around his cock.  He shudders, eyes trying to drift shut, and it’s a fight to keep them open through the utter bliss he’s feeling. It’s hot, and wet, the symbiote’s tongue slipping greedily up and down himMissed this.  Want to make you feel good.God, Eddie wants that, too.





	Deeper

**Author's Note:**

> This is still Dae's fault for being an enabler. Mind the tags, when I say drool kink, I Mean It.

He’s not drunk.

 

Eddie hasn’t been drunk in ages, but he might as well be right now.  Exhaustion claws at him as he staggers through alleys and crosses deserted sidewalks, bathed in the dirty yellow glow of the street lights overhead.  He bumps into a wall, shoulder scraping the bricks for a moment before he’s righted— not by himself. That’s not something he can manage at the moment.

 

When he stumbles now, his love is there to set him right.

 

_ Eddie. _

 

He hums in response, reaching into himself, rifling through his own mind.  His symbiote isn’t entirely happy, but it’s hard to feel out exactly why. They’d been chasing after the same bunch of thugs for a couple of weeks, and they’d been dangerous, and elusive, but the fight is over now.  His other is fed, and the bad guys are all either dead or in custody. Still, Eddie isn’t done for the night. There are people he needs to talk to, loose ends that need tying. Another hour or two, and then they can go home, and fall into bed for a few days.  

 

There’s still no answer in his thoughts, and Eddie presses into them gently, and feels them press back.

 

“What’s wrong, darling?”

 

_ Home now, Eddie.  Tired. _

 

Eddie frowns, because his symbiote doesn’t  _ get  _ tired, doesn’t need sleep.  Unless something is wrong that he hasn’t picked up on, which has worry spiking through him all at once, a dark sort of dread.  It’s soothed away almost immediately as his other senses his confusion, and there’s a fond sort of exasperation that isn’t put into words, nudging into his mind.  An image floats up in his consciousness; Eddie in bed, sleeping soundly, black swirls wrapped possessively around him.

 

_ You, Eddie.  Tired. Wanna go home now. _

 

He wants to argue.  Eddie isn’t the only person who was fighting tonight, and he needs to check in with the others, make sure everything is squared away.  Except he won’t actually be doing anyone any good right now, heavy lidded with only his symbiote to keep him from tripping over himself.  Until he gets some rest he’s more of a liability than an asset, and he knows it.

 

_ Talk to them tomorrow.  Home, now.  _

 

There’s a formless, subtle pleading in him, tugging him towards home, and Eddie yields to it without a fight.

 

“Alright.  Home, now.”

 

The pleased satisfaction that fills him isn’t his own, but it still has Eddie smiling.

 

-

 

As soon as he closes the door of his apartment, Eddie’s clothes melt away into nothing.  It’s never stifling, wearing only his other, but it’s satisfying to be undressed all the same.  The relief of being home, of being  _ done,  _ is stark and overpowering.  Eddie hadn’t realized how much tension he’d been carrying until it starts to ease, body going loose in anticipation of sleep.

 

It’s only when he’s in his bedroom, crawling into bed without any real intention of doing so, that he realizes he isn’t in control of himself.  His symbiote has taken the reins, guiding Eddie’s limbs carefully; putting Eddie where it wants him, which is sprawled out on top of their blankets with his hands above his head.  Eddie can’t help but grin. Smug, more amused than he should be.

 

“What happened to me being tired?”  Eddie asks, but his other knows he’s teasing.  He’s already hard, knees falling wide, all of him open and willing.

 

Can’t be anything else with his love like this, hungry and shameless and eager to please him— giving Eddie what he needs, even when he’s too worn out to ask for it.

 

It’s more than he deserves.

 

Black tendrils curl around his wrists, tighter and tighter, until it’s impossible to move them.  More twist into being around his hips, and his stomach, the symbiote taking form between his thighs.  Partially, anyway; its head, its chest, a pair of arms, all springing forth from a teeming mass of inky darkness.  

 

_ Stressed.  Been so busy.  Missed you, Eddie. _

 

Eddie flexes his wrists, and the tendrils around them spill obligingly into his palms.  He runs his fingers over the soft, shifting black there, letting it cling to him, relaxing as it spreads over his hands.

 

“I’m right here, love,” Eddie says, watching as the symbiote’s tongue lolls out of its mouth and curls around his cock.  He shudders, eyes trying to drift shut, and it’s a fight to keep them open through the utter bliss he’s feeling. It’s hot, and wet, the symbiote’s tongue slipping greedily up and down him

 

_ Missed  _ this. _  Want to make you feel good. _

 

_ God, _ Eddie wants that, too.  They’ve been running themselves ragged, playing hero as best they can, trying to save as many people as possible.  It feels good, but they haven’t had a lot of time to rest, to breathe, to be alone.

 

It feels good to be a hero, but this feels better, and it’s been so long since they’ve been together this way.  Just them in the tangle of their bed, his other’s tongue coiled tight around him, pulsing in tight waves. Eddie pulls against the hold on his wrists, and it gives way to let him move freely; knows he wants to touch.

 

Eddie reaches down to lay his palm against the symbiote’s cheek, thumb tracing affectionately over its teeth.  They’re savage, a mouth full of knives, and Eddie presses at their points as he rocks his hips. 

 

The symbiote, it could do this just as well without taking form.  Twist itself around Eddie, take him any way it likes. And sometimes it does, but it likes this, too— insinuating itself in Eddie’s space, broad and warm and undeniable. 

 

As though that makes it more real somehow, but it should know better by now.

 

Should know there’s nothing else in the world more real than what they have; how they’re bound together so tightly that nothing can unbind them. 

 

It senses his thoughts, as it always does, and the euphoria that rips through Eddie is so powerful that it’s hard to breathe for a moment.

 

_ Love you, Eddie.  Love you. _

 

“Love… love you too, darling.”

 

If his voice is breathy and high and ragged, it’s really not his fault.

 

The tongue on his cock slips further down; still coiled snugly around his shaft, but with the tip laving over his sac now, moving lazily back and forth.  Sharp claws dig into the skin of Eddie’s inner thighs as they’re coaxed wide, wide, wider, until he aches with the stretch. 

 

It’s messy, drool leaking from the symbiote’s mouth to pool on his stomach and drip down past his balls.  Eddie runs his hand through the wet slick of it and lifts it to his mouth, holding his other’s bright white eyes as he sucks the drool off his fingers.  Shoves them deep between his lips, licking obscenely around each digit, like he’s starved for the taste. There isn’t much of a taste, really, and mouthing up symbiote drool doesn’t particularly do anything for Eddie, but that doesn’t matter.

 

It’s not for him.

 

His other growls, a vicious sense of possession filling Eddie up until he overflows with it— _mine, mine, mine, mine,_ and Eddie reaches out with his free hand to take his symbiote’s and tangle their fingers together, because it goes both ways.  He pushes back; _mine, too, darling,_ and is rewarded with a guttural purr.  Clawed fingers grip his own so hard it hurts, scratching into his knuckles, but he wouldn’t want it any other way.

 

_ Eddie, Eddie… _

 

Its frantic and incoherent in his mind, an endless repetition of his name drenched in vivid emotion.  Want, pure and unfettered.

 

Something like worship, and Eddie doesn’t deserve it, either, but he’s well past telling his love that.  It’s an argument he won’t win, so Eddie just lets himself drown in it, that unfathomable well of adulation he carries with him always.   

 

The symbiote’s tongue moves faster on his cock, one of its arms curling around his thigh, a clawed thumb stroking gently over Eddie’s knuckles now.  He arches off the mattress and wraps his legs around the shifting form between his thighs, heels sinking into it, black creeping over his calves. Eddie fists his free hand in the sheets over his head now, fingers still dark like they’ve been dipped in ink, thighs shaking, spine bowed.

 

_ “Oh, darling.”  _

 

They’re his words but it’s a confession if Eddie’s ever heard one, and he comes in shuddering bursts, whimpering out a wounded noise.  There’s a fresh rush of drool on his skin— the sheets are soaked underneath him, but Eddie doesn’t mind, doesn’t protest. All he can do is quake as his come is licked up, black swirls petting over him everywhere, affection pouring through his thoughts like rain.  

 

_ Taste so good, Eddie. _

 

Eddie twitches out the last of his climax, melting into the blankets like he’s made of liquid, every bit of tension gone from him now.

 

“You too, baby.”

 

Black swarms up Eddie’s body, the symbiote reforming in front of his face, wrapping Eddie up like a second skin.  It licks over his mouth, and Eddie cups its cheeks, thumbs folding over its teeth as he opens his lips for a messy kiss.  Filthy, it’s filthy, and Eddie hums drowsily as their tongues spill together, drool slicking down his chin. 

 

When they break apart the symbiote nuzzles into his throat, teeth scraping before it shudders down into him, nothing more than a swath of black over his chest and shoulders and belly.  Curling gently around his thighs, swirling intricate over his biceps. 

 

Eddie closes his eyes and nestles himself deeper into the pillows.

 

_ Sleep, Eddie.  _

 

Except he’s already gone, buried under waves of exhaustion.  Black tendrils stretch out from Eddie and flick off the lamp, more slinking down to take hold of his blankets, pulling them up over Eddie’s sleeping form and tucking them in around him.

 

_ Love you. _

 

It’s soft for something that happens without sound, and even in his sleep, Eddie smiles.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Tell me nice things, and enjoy this soft filth while it lasts, because the next thing I'm writing is longer but significantly angstier.


End file.
